


The taste of your lips

by jstrattford



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jstrattford/pseuds/jstrattford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall’s a jock who needs to get drunk whenever he’s with the school drama geek, Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The taste of your lips

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://arie-172.tumblr.com/post/96118020567/the-taste-of-your-lips). Warning to those of you who don't like top!Harry. (sorry). Also, I wrote this a year ago and this was based on a prompt so the characterization is a bit hard for me to process (meaning that I'm not exactly happy with how I've written this). But, yeah. Thanks to those who read.

The first time it happened, it was just a mistake.

An honest and innocent mistake that tasted of unsweetened wine and frantic breathing, as Niall awoke the next morning to see a mop of curls sprawled all over the pillow next to him.

He felt sloppy because his shoes seated beside the bed were covered with what looked to be beer, and his blond hair appeared ruffled and out of place; but nothing could compare to the way his mind burst once he caught sight of the boy. Niall’s chest heaved in fast movements as the curly haired boy, Harry Styles, stirred in his sleep, as Niall’s jaw tightened.

 _How could this happen?_ Niall thought, racing frantically for his jeans as he took a small peak outside to see if anyone was in sight. No one was, fortunately, as Niall sighed in relief and fixed his ruffled hair, hurriedly tugging himself into his jeans - desperate to leave before the boy would wake up.

Except, that was not to be.

“Hey,” called a deep, raspy morning voice, as Niall stood still in his tracks and glanced back at Harry grinning softly at him.

“Hey,” Niall muttered, awkwardly adjusting his shirt.

“So…last night was fun,” Harry said, fond smile on his face, but the smoothness in his voice only caused Niall’s body to tense, icy and frigid.

“Last night was a mistake,” Niall said through rosy cheeks, averting his gaze to zip the zipper from his jeans.

“A mistake?” Harry echoed, hurt etched in his voice. Niall hated how small he sounded - how unbearably wounded his voice was - knowing that he had just broken someone so effortlessly.

But he couldn’t help it. It was the lesser of great evils and Niall wasn’t ready to even think about the other option.

“Sorry,” Niall mumbled apologetically, but refused to look at what he was sure was Harry’s sad face that was about to break. “But I’m just not interested in guys,” Niall attempted to add in a stern voice, but his voice quivered, leaving Harry alone in the bed.

Niall’s head hurt with a passion, feeling the blood coursing through his veins, but he told himself that it was nothing an aspirin couldn’t fix - his way of forcing the guilt away from his body.

*

It was strange but for whichever reason, Harry never spoke of that night.

Niall had expected some type of blackmail from Harry, but Harry didn’t even glance at him when he sat with the rest of the drama club - Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Andy Samuels, Josh Devine, and some other individuals that Niall couldn’t remember by name. He was more focused on the possible reason for Harry’s discretion, pondering exactly why it was that he never said anything.

That’s not to say he wasn’t thankful. He was very much so, but it was just strange to see Harry (the drama geek) ignore him and treat him with such an indifference, when Niall had seen his face change colors as Harry begged him in his hoarse voice to keep going - a thought Niall lingered on more than he liked to admit.

But, still.

Neither of them spoke of it, and Niall did a pretty good job of pretending that it never happened. But then came Louis Tomlinson’s party - the one everyone was invited to - and by everyone this meant _everyone._

And being the star football player he was, Niall had to go. He had to go and endured the somewhat silly and dull conversation of his so-called friends - each with a girl to the side - as Niall sulked in his boredom until getting the courage to get up.

He wandered off with the excuse of finding a girl of his own as his friends cheered him on, and Niall cringed at the thought. He was never that type of guy, but there was that expectation of him because of those annoying stereotypes. And being a star player seemed to translate as being a douche, Niall realized, stopping in front a quiet room - exactly what Niall was looking for.

“Oh,” Niall said when he entered and saw Harry sitting with a beer in his hand. Harry’s eyes shot up, lips glossy from the liquid of his beer, which Niall couldn’t help but lick his own in the process.

“Sorry,” Niall apologized, moving hastily to close the door, but Harry shook his head.

“It’s alright. You can stay,” he said, eyes brimming with something that Niall was unsure, and the feeling made him uneasy.

“Nah, it’s fine, mate,” Niall said, attempting to hide the difficulty his lungs were having to take a breath, but Harry shook his head again.

“It’s really no problem,” he insisted, and there was just something about his eyes that rendered Niall speechless and broke his defenses, as he took the seat next to him, eyes starry and alive.

“I thought you drama people didn’t like parties,” Niall said, eliciting a small smile from Harry, curls wild and lush, as a rather interesting image came to Niall - faint memory of what it was like pulling Harry’s curls with his fingers in mind. Niall shook his head, hoping to disguise the bright redness on his face, but Harry’s eyes were like knives, watching him closely.

“Well,” Harry mused, taking a sip of his beer. “They have their appeal,” he said, eyes shinning, as Harry passed Niall one of the many beers that were stashed in the room that Niall took it without hesitating.

Niall drank bottle after bottle, and with each bottle, his guard fell, drawing closer to Harry as Harry smiled at him.

And soon enough, he was on top of Harry, kissing his face and gnawing at his lips, as Harry’s hands pulled him in, grabbing strongly at his sides.

“You won’t be a prick about this tomorrow, will you?” Harry broke the kiss to ask, hopeful, as Niall shook his head, vision blurred.

“No,” he said, wishing that Harry would just keep burying his lips on his bare neck, and sighed once he did.

“Never again,” Niall groaned, allowing Harry’s lips to explore every part of him, as he curled his fingers through Harry’s hair, heart pounding as Harry worked him through another mind-blowing orgasm that night.

But then came the morning, and just like the last, he said the same thing.

“I don’t like guys,” Niall muttered, leaving a hurt Harry alone in the room once again.

And although he very clearly did, he hid it - hoping to drown out his unwanted thoughts through meaningless one-night stands that ended up being exactly that. Meaningless and so wrong, because he never felt good by the end; always scoffing because it’d only felt right with one person.

 _Fuck it_ , Niall thought, as he saw Harry opening his locker, grabbing a grey sweater.

Niall looked around to make sure no one was really there, as he rushed his way to Harry’s side and pulled him close to his body.

“N-Niall?” Harry’s voiced quivered, as his wide eyes looked into Niall’s. Niall didn’t say anything else though, connecting their lips in a slow movement and pressed Harry close to him, savoring the way Harry relaxed against him.

Harry’s breathing was rough but he used Niall’s collar to hold their position, his nails digging into Niall, breaking the kiss to catch his breath.

“You…” Harry began, scanning Niall with his eyes.

“You’re a drama geek and a bloke.” Niall breathed out through a strained voiced, more to himself than to Harry, as Harry quirked a brow in confusion.

“And you’re a prick,” Harry retaliated, but it came out soft and fond, as Niall swallowed, kissing Harry once again, letting his breathing get out of hand because he was too damn excited, forgetting just how wrong this was because it felt so good.

This went on for months, too.

Months of hiding, with Niall never willing to look into Harry’s eyes each time they were together, until having a good amount of alcohol in his system.

It obviously hurt Harry but Harry let him be, holding Niall in his arms each time he worked Niall through an orgasm, as Niall shivered against him, drowning in his euphoria but hating his weakness.

“You don’t deserve this,” Niall would say each time, voice plagued with woe. “You deserve someone better than me.”

“But I only want you,” Harry said back, which only made Niall feel worse, as he allowed himself to fall back into Harry’s arms. Harry hugged Niall each time, always so sweet and gentle with Niall, as he ran circles though Niall’s scalp.

Harry was always so understanding with Niall.

Even that night when Niall gave him his first blowjob, as Niall's heart catapulted, eyes filled with doubt, until hearing Harry let out a loud moan.

“You’re…” Harry gulped, gripping his fingers through Niall’s golden locks. “You’re doing it right,” he said breathlessly, as Niall picked up his pace, feeling Harry harden each time he went back up and took Harry in, getting more assertive with Harry’s beautiful moans and frantic breathing, like he couldn’t control himself.

Niall’s jaw really hurt but he kept going, sucking all of Harry’s unique taste, and savoring the way Harry panted out his name before filling Niall’s mouth with his come, as Niall swallowed it in, taking his mouth off of Harry’s cock.

“I love you,” Harry whispered with an elated face, so faint and soft, but Niall heard it. He let it go though, telling himself that it was better this way.

But, pretty soon it got harder for Niall.

It was a shift that Niall couldn’t even understand, face burning each time he saw Harry with another guy, and chest aching at the way he couldn’t always be around Harry, although it was easier now.

It was at a point where Niall could go out with Harry and his friends - hiding from his own in the process - but it was a start. And although Harry’s friends could clearly see that something was happening between them, they never spoke about it, welcoming Niall as if he was one of them with open arms just to see Harry’s smiling face. It came as a shock to Niall but he let himself relax in this different but glorious atmosphere, as he finally gathered the courage to stop drinking when being intimate with Harry.

And it’s when they finally make love, that Niall’s not drunk.

He’s completely sober, trailing kisses down ever part of Harry’s flushed body, relishing each moment now that his mind isn’t blurred with vague images, as he strokes Harry’s cock with his hands, feeling Harry unravel with each stroke, hips arching up to feel Niall’s hand on him.

This is all familiar territory to Niall as he anxiously works his way up to the next part, freezing when he realizes he’s lost.

Harry reads it on his face and cups Niall’s heated cheeks with his strong hands, placing a chaste kiss on Niall’s swollen lips, dark lashes fluttering.

“Just let me take care of you,” Harry whispers, pressing light kisses at the edge of Niall’s jaw, as Niall nods slowly but lets Harry take control.

It’s weird because Harry seems to have a better knowledge of what he’s doing than Niall, but Niall lets Harry guide him because he trusts Harry with all of himself, body slick and hot, as Harry presses one last kiss on his nape before reaching for his drawer.

It scares Niall when he sees Harry get out the lube to prep Niall but he stays still, whimpering when he feels the cold against his skin, body writhing in chaotic movements. It’s strange to feel Harry’s fingers moving inside him but soon enough it stops feeling strange and starts feeling really good, _so right, so perfect_ , as Niall begins unraveling with Harry’s touches.

“I - I’m ready,” he croaks, heart thudding loudly against his chest when he hears Harry place a condom on.

Harry’s heat is back on Niall as he cautiously moves, filling Niall slowly.

“Oh!” Niall cries when Harry finally enters him, wincing in pain because it fucking hurts, as Harry stills, asking, _is this alright? Am I hurting you?_

Niall shakes his head, gripping his hand into a fist as Harry’s hands grab his, moving at a dangerously slow speed and building his tempo with each thrust, as Niall’s body finally relaxes, letting out a small moan.

“Is this alright?” Harry asks, to which Niall replies through a broken moan, letting Harry know just how good it is.

Niall doesn’t last long though, and neither does Harry. They’re both so spent from building up to this one moment that they shatter in a couple more movements - coming quickly and at once, as their pants fill the room, frantic but elated.

Neither of them shower (Niall objects against it) and Harry obliges, holding him close, drifting into a tranquil sleep, as he presses his chin against the top of Niall’s head, nuzzling against him.

And it’s when Harry’s sleeping that Niall presses a kiss on his neck telling him, “I love you,” in a gentle voice, sighing. Niall thinks that it’s the safest way of letting Harry know because nothing will get entangled, but then Harry sighs, pressing Niall closer, letting Niall know that he’s heard.

“Me too,” Harry says, as Niall’s lips part open, but allows Harry to hold him tightly the whole night, vulnerability barring in him.

*

But with all good things, comes the harsh reality of their twisted lie.

It’s a lie because although they share these sweet moments, Harry’s never the one holding Niall’s hand in the halls. He’s the one watching Niall become homecoming king with a random girl, jaw tense, but watching him, as Niall tries to not let it show just how much Harry’s pain is affecting him.

He loves Harry - he’s completely certain of that. And it’s this that makes it so hard each time Harry begs him to stop lying.

“Why do we have to keep this a secret?” Harry always asks, eyes shinning, mouth tugs downwards.

“Harry…” Niall says, as Harry’s face falls, because he knows this conversation like the back of his hand.

“It’s not the right timing,” Niall tells him, letting out a breath.

“But I love you,” Harry says, as the guilt spins in Niall’s gut.

“I know, Harry.” He says, hugging an irritated Harry (who’s cross) but allows himself to be hugged anyway. “I know,” Niall whispers, letting the truth speak through his actions.

But one day it’s like an awakening. Niall sees everything so clearly with those blue pupils of his, watching Harry’s soft face and knowing exactly what he has to do.

“Is this really what you want?” Niall asks, holding Harry close to him.

“Is what?” Harry grins softly at him.

“Telling people about us,” Niall says, as the smile on Harry’s face falls, eyes shinning with hope.

“You mean…”

“Only if you want,” Niall says, as Harry shakes his head.

“But your dad…”

“Will always be my dad,” Niall presses, voice cracking because he’s still not sure about that. But he figures that if there’s ever someone worth fighting for, it’s Harry. And for Harry, he’ll go that one extra mile.

“Do you love me?” Niall asks, as a gentle smile graces Harry’s face.

“Of course I do,” Harry says, with no hesitation.

“Then be with me when I tell him?” Niall asks, voice quivering with doubts, but calming once Harry nods, because now he knows he’s not alone in this.

*

His father’s eyes are dangerous and wild when he sees Niall and Harry walking towards him with their hands locked together.

Niall’s shivers when they meet eyes because he can already tell that this isn’t going to end well, as Harry squeezes his hand, reminding him that he’s still there.

“So this is what I get for providing you a good home?” his father questions, voice edged and stern, calloused, like this isn’t even his son.

“I’m happy,” Niall says through the lump in his throat, but he’s so afraid because his father is looking at him with those menacing eyes, flesh flushing into an anger-driven red.

He doesn’t say anything else though, and just walks into his room, leaving Niall’s mother to chase after him.

“Is he…” Harry hesitates, green eyes watching Niall. “Is he alright?” He asks, and this is why he’s got Niall’s heart - the sweetness and thoughtfulness in him make it hard for Niall not to give it to him wholeheartedly.

“No,” Niall lets out a breath, relieved, afraid, and tired, but mostly relieved.

“He will be though,” Niall says, wishful thinking, as he squeezes Harry’s sweaty hand.

*

Niall’s in his sweats later that night with a bag to his side, wondering if he’s making the right choice. He’s unable to stop the way his hands are fidgeting, a loud thud in his chest, freezing when the door finally opens, as a gentle but confused face greets him.

“Is it okay if I stay with you for a while?” Niall asks his brother, Greg, as Greg watches him with a quirked brow.

“Just for a couple of nights, I promise,” Niall assures him, voice cracking. He’s got a broken posture and his eyes are brimming with unshed tears, that it’s not necessary for him to say anything for Greg to know.

Greg reaches forward and pushes Niall in for a hug as Niall finally lets out the tears that were kept in to stop Harry from worrying, as Greg hugs him tightly; his way of letting Niall that it’ll be okay.

*

Harry’s visited Niall every day since moving in with Greg. He’s even managed to stay over (sometimes), much to Niall’s chagrin. He always likes having Harry around, melting with each kiss and touch, wishing that it could always be like this, disappointed whenever Harry’s not able to be there by his side.

He’s become the most consistent person in Niall’s life - someone he can trust no matter what - and it’s this thought that finally gives Niall the courage to say what he’s been bursting to.

“Harry’s a good friend,” Greg says one day, and Niall hates how generic that sounds. As if Harry was just a friend and not the love of his life, so he takes a chance, inhaling a big breath.

“Harry’s not just my friend,” Niall says, voice strong. “He’s my other half,” Niall finishes, because he’s always cringed at the word boyfriend and how premature that sounds, trying to keep his face strong when Greg lets out a small smile.

“Oh, Niall. I could’ve told you that,” Greg grins, shocking Niall. Greg nudges him lightly, as Niall stares at him with wide eyes, but calms the second Greg chuckles. It’s like a load of bricks has been lifted off of him, smiling shortly, as he returns the banter to his brother.

*

Harry’s always been there for Niall. Through all the pain and pleasure, the good the bad, the moment when Niall was about to fall apart - he’s been there. And it’s when Niall finally comes out to the school that Harry’s still there, hand clasping Niall. And it’s then that Niall thinks that perhaps this won’t be that bad.

 _Perhaps, it’ll be fine_ , he thinks, with hope residing in his chest, letting Harry guide him.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Come say [hi](http://arie-172.tumblr.com/) (if you want).


End file.
